by Hazel Kelly
She walked over to the couch and collapsed on it, pulling her shirt down. “Isn’t he dreamy?”
“He’s your type anyway.”
“All day long.”
I laughed. “Is he the Tinder guy you showed me before?”
“One and the same.”
“I thought he looked familiar. He works at the Children’s hospital?”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Yeah.”
“Is he a doctor?”
“A nurse, but who cares? Scrubs are hot.”
“Can’t argue with you there.” I leaned forward and pushed my plate farther back on the table so I could put my feet up. “Did you know he was going to stop by or-”
“No, he asked if I wanted to get a quick dinner, and I said I’d already picked up a pizza but that he could stop by.”
“So he stopped by for a ride, huh?”
“Yeah, and we got off at all the stops.”
I rolled my eyes. “Got it.”
“Yes he does.”
“How long have you been seeing him?”
“That was the third time. We had lunch once and went for a drink the other night.”
“Do you genuinely like him or are you just happy you got fucked?”
She shrugged. “Both, I hope.”
“He seems normal enough.”
“I know, right? What a relief?! I swear if I met one more eccentric hipster I was going to scream.”
“You think you might be able to carry on seeing this guy seriously?”
“I don’t see why not. He’s nice and funny, and he loves kids, obviously.”
“So he can’t be a total monster.”
Fiona folded her arms behind her head and looked up at the ceiling.
I didn’t even want to know what was going through her mind. “Thanks for picking up the pizza by the way.”
She dropped her eyes and looked at me. “No worries. I’m going to have some in a minute. I forgot what an appetite a good round of sheet wrestling can work up.”
I shook my head. “I put the garlic sauce in the fridge.”
“Cool.”
She walked over to the kitchen and I sat back, happy that at least one of us was getting some that meant something.
“So how was closing up with Chuck?” she asked.
“Honestly, you’re in such a good mood right now I don’t think I should tell you.”
“Why? What happened?”
“It was a fucking disaster.”
“Jesus. Hold on a sec.” She opened the pizza box and dragged a slice onto her plate. “Do you need another drink while I’m up?”
“I’d take a shandy if there are any left.”
“Sure.”
A moment later, she handed me an open bottle and plopped down on the couch. “So what happened? I feel so guilty that I left.”
“It’s okay, but it was really scary. He got kind of aggressive.”
“How aggressive?”
“I don’t think he would’ve raped me or anything but he went as far as telling me I wasn’t going to call for help.”
“What?! How did it even come to that?”
“He came up behind me and pressed his-” I swallowed. “Pressed himself against me.”
“Eww. What a creep!”
“And when he put his hands on my hips, I told him to take his fucking hands off me or I was going to call the police, and that’s when he said I wasn’t going to call anyone and forced me to hang up the phone.”
Fiona’s eyes were wide and her pizza slice was frozen half way between the plate and her mouth. “What did you do?”
“Aiden showed up.”
She dropped the pizza and let out a sigh of relief. “Thank god.”
“I know. I was freaking out, Fiona. I basically ran to him when he walked in.”
“What did Chuck do?”
“He just listened while I told him that Aiden was my MMA fighting boyfriend and that he broke people’s ribs all the time.”
She laughed. “And did Aiden play along?”
“Brilliantly,” I said, lifting my hands up. “He was all like remember when I broke that guys jaw just for hurting your feelings and stuff like that. I think Chuck was genuinely nervous.”
“Good.”
“I know.” I crossed one ankle over the other. “But we need to do something.”
“What can we do though? It’s just our word against his and he’s our employer. Like if it was just a matter of one of us losing our job, maybe we could swing it but-”
“I get what you’re saying, and we need to be careful.”
“Do you have any ideas?”
“Besides letting Aiden kill him?”
She nodded. “Yeah, besides murder of any kind.”
“Well, I was thinking that even if we get out, he’ll just start harassing the other girls, ya know? It won’t change anything or stop him.”
“So what do you suggest?”
I shrugged. “I haven’t figured that out yet, but in the meantime, we need to make sure no one is left alone to close up with him anymore.”
“Right.”
“Cause if he did something to you or one of the other girls… I just can’t risk having that on my conscious.”
“Totally.”
“Though I’m hoping Aiden scared him enough to make a difference today.”
Fiona shook her head. “I am so sorry, Lucy. I feel terrible.”
“Don’t, it’s my fault. I’m the one that insisted you go cause I put deep dish ahead of my personal safety.”
“I’m so glad Aiden showed up. He’s the best, huh?”
I sighed. “He just might be, yeah.”
“So did he just give you a ride home or-”
“After I gave him a haircut.”
“Nice one.”
“He certainly thought so anyway. I’ve never seen anyone more excited about getting shampooed in my life.”
She laughed. “Really?”
“Yeah, he said he was having a hard time not moaning and that it was better than Christmas.”
She rolled her eyes. “That is too funny. I suppose if you’ve never gotten your hair washed by someone, it is kind of relaxing.”
I pursed my lips.
“Why are you blushing?”
“No reason.”
“Lucyyy.”
“This is going to sound so stupid.”
“What?”
“I demand you forget I said it as soon as I tell you.”
Fiona lifted three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
“I thought you never made it past Brownie level?”
“What do you want then? A pinky swear?”
“That would be sufficient.”
“Okay, I pinky swear,” she said, lifting a pinky in the air. “Now tell me the stupid thing.”
I took a deep breath. “When I was washing Aiden’s hair- how do I say this-”
“With words. C’mon already.”
“It was kind of intense.”
“Go on.”
“Like normally it’s just part of the job, but washing his hair…”
“What?”
“I think I was kind of turned on by it.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“Really?”
“Of course not,” Fiona said. “Aiden is super hot. I think any woman would wet their panties if they were massaging either of his heads.”
I rolled my eyes.
“I know you like to pretend he’s nothing special,” she said. “I know you think you’re above that because you knew him back when he used to pick his nose and eat it.”
“He never did that.”
She laughed. “It was just an example. You know what I mean.” She took a small bite of her pizza and then covered her mouth while she kept talking. “The point is, you may have brain washed your mind into thinking he’s not delicious, but your body speaks a different language.”
I bit my bottom lip.
She swallowed. “S
hit, just thinking about his lone dimple is enough to get me wet, and he’s not even my type.”
“Jesus.”
“Just saying. I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“No?”
“So what if you got a little turned on? You’re only human. It’s not like you tried to jump his bones.”
“No,” I said. But the thought crossed my mind.
Chapter 4: Aiden
I was so confused about the Chelsea situation I didn’t know what to do, but staring at her while she slept wasn’t helping. So I set out early, deciding I’d join the team for an early morning weight room session.
For some reason- no matter what was bothering me- lifting heavy things and putting them back down again always helped me clear my mind. And that’s what I needed right now, to clear my mind of all the confusing shit she’d filled it with.
Because the previous night, she’d done something so unprecedented it threw me for a loop. She apologized. With words. And she did it without any coaxing.
Granted, I was pissed, but normally she would sulk when I was mad and wait for me to be the bigger person. But on this occasion, she owned up to being wrong right away.
She claimed she got carried away, not just because of her luck getting the job she went for, but because she got swept up in the excitement of my sister’s happy day. Then she admitted that she was wrong to buy the bracelet for herself, but that the saleswoman was so persuasive that she fell for her tactics and lost the run of herself.
And surprisingly, I thought all her excuses were valid.
But the most ridiculous thing was the personal growth she demonstrated by calling to cancel the order immediately.
It was the most mature thing she’d done in weeks. And while I knew it was completely idiotic of me, I was kind of proud of her for reacting so well to a situation that hadn’t gone exactly how she wanted it to.
So even though I wanted to be mad, I couldn’t sustain it because she made it all better by undoing her bad behavior and impressing me at the same time. Plus, it was a little hypocritical of me to be so mad at her.
After all, I’m the one that started spoiling her rotten from the minute we started dating. I’m the one that told her to use the credit card if she needed to, though I explicitly remember using the phrase “for emergencies.” And I’m the one that had gotten her every gift she’d ever wanted because it made me happy to treat her so why wouldn’t she think she should just take out the middle man and pick up her own birthday present?
She probably thought she was doing me a favor, which I suppose she would’ve been if I saw any future for our relationship.
Still, I didn’t want to end things on bad terms.
Unfortunately, I realized I didn’t really have a leg to stand on with the black underwear accusation. No matter how I tried to verbalize my concern, I sounded like a total psycho.
Can you explain why your black underwear is dirty?
For whom did you wear this underwear because it wasn’t me?
Where were you when you last wore this underwear?
It seemed ridiculous. Laughable even. I needed to chill out. Our relationship needed work, not paranoia. As a result, I decided to ride out Chelsea’s mature mood and have a conversation with her in which we could reset our expectations. I planned to go over our current financial situation and figure out exactly what we both considered a fair arrangement.
I would discuss how I wanted us to argue going forward so that no one’s feelings would get hurt, and if that went well, I might try to suggest she go see a nutritionist. I figured that might go down better than the whole shrink idea did since I could actually sell it as something that wouldn’t interfere with her relentless ambition to physically disappear.
In fact, by the time I was done maxing out in the weight room, I was feeling clear headed and ready to give her another shot.
I texted her before I got in the shower and asked if she wanted to meet for lunch. By the time I was out, she’d already gotten back to me saying that she couldn’t because she was volunteering at the nursing home again, but maybe we could get dinner.
And by dinner, I’m sure she meant Grey Goose.
I don’t know if it was the endorphins pumping through my body that gave me the crazy idea or what, but I decided that I should go surprise her at the nursing home. After all, her Grandma Rose was a total sweetheart, and there was probably at least one old guy looking for a game of competitive chess whose day I could make.
Hell, I might even learn something.
Besides, I was sort of curious to see how Chelsea managed herself when she was surrounded by a bunch of people who had committed what she considered to be the only sin greater than getting fat: aging, which she often substituted for the phrase “letting oneself go.” As if surrendering to gravity was a deliberate decision people made when they hit fifty.
What’s more, she’d been spending a lot of time with the other volunteers so I was bound to meet them eventually. Why not speed up the process? Maybe I was just being all Alpha and trying to check out the group and make sure no one was after my girl, but a guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do.
So as soon as I left the gym, I hopped on the expressway and headed for Leafy Lakes Lodge. Twenty minutes later, I parked all the way at the back of the lot so no one would dent my car and headed inside.
The woman at the front desk greeted me with an automatic smile. “Hello, sir. What can I do for you?”
“I’m here to see Rose Delacroix?”
“Relation?”
“Her granddaughter’s boyfriend.”
“Very well,” she said, lifting an open binder onto the counter. “If you could just sign in there, please.”
I wrote my name and the date and time. I didn’t see Chelsea’s name above mine, but I figured that was only because regular volunteers didn’t have to sign in as visitors.
“Thank you-” The woman craned her neck to check my signature. “Aiden.” Then she checked her watch. “Rose should be in the sitting room now with her friends.” She raised an arm and pointed down one of the hallways. “Straight down that way. Third door on your left. It should be open.”
I thanked her and headed down the corridor, peeking in the rooms as I went by, hoping it wouldn’t be too long before someone offered me a butterscotch candy.
I saw Rose as soon as I stepped through door number three. “Hi Rose,” I said, lifting a hand and nodding to her and her friends. “Ladies.”
“Aiden! What a nice surprise.” She put her hands on the front of her armrests.
“Don’t get up,” I said, grabbing an empty chair and planting it beside her.
“Oh sure, the day I’m not wearing my glasses a hunk of man candy shows up,” her friend said, throwing her hands in the air. “Isn’t that just my luck?”
“Don’t mind Betty,” Rose said. “She’d only undress you with her eyes if she had ‘em on.”
“I’d undress you with my hands, too, if it weren’t for my arthritis,” Betty added.
“How are you?” Rose asked.
“I’m great,” I said. “Though I bet I’d be better if I came to see you more.”
“And me,” Betty said. “I’m the one that’ll give you something to smile about.”
Rose rolled her eyes.
“Is Chelsea around?” I asked, my eyes bouncing between the knitters and card players around the edge of the room.
“Chelsea?”
“Yeah, I thought she was coming to see you today.”
“That would be a wonderful surprise. I haven’t seen her since March.”
“March?” I asked, wondering if Rose was losing it after all. “I thought she was here more recently than that?” Like last week.
Rose turned to Betty. “Wasn’t it March?” Rose asked. “Remember when you met my Granddaughter?”
“The hungry looking one?” Betty asked.
Rose gave her a look and squeezed my knee. “The slim blonde, yes.”
&n
bsp; “It was March alright,” Betty said. “I remember because it was around the time my husband died.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
“Oh don’t be, pet,” Betty said. “He died fifteen years ago.”
“So it was definitely March then,” Rose said. “Haven’t seen her since.”
“My bad,” I said. “I must have gotten her confused with someone.” Someone I could trust.
Chapter 5: Lucy
When Fiona got home, I was curled up on the couch with a bowl of popcorn.
“Hey hey,” she said.
I paused the TV. “Hi.” I could tell she was tipsy just from the way she fell against the door to close it. “How was your night?”
“Excellent.”
“I take it Peter’s friends are normal?”
She shrugged as she swayed towards the kitchen. “I wouldn’t be the best judge of that, but none of them hit on me or called me by the wrong name so I’d take that as a good sign.”
“Nice.”
“Would you like to join me for a nightcap?” she asked, opening the freezer.
“No thanks, I’m good.”
“Are you sure? I’m going to get really fancy and make a gin and tonic?”
I could barely stomach Fiona’s cocktails when I was shitfaced. Plus, throwing a glass of gin in my popcorn filled belly sounded like a terrible idea. “Thanks, but I’ll stick with my beer.”
“Suit yourself.”
“I thought you were staying out?”
“Are you disappointed I’m back?” she asked, letting the fizzy sound out of the tonic.
“Not at all. I was hoping you would come home and rub my face in what an awesome night you had.”
“I told you to come along.”
“I know. I’m just giving you a hard time.”
“He did have one sort of cute single friend.”
“Gee, that’s inspired.”
“Most of them we’re in relationships though.”
“Just my luck,” I said, shoving a handful of popcorn in my mouth.
“I guess male nurses have a pretty easy time getting chicks.”
“Between the scrubs and the whole children’s hospital angle, I can’t say I’m surprised.”
She dropped some ice in a glass. “I did go back to Peter’s for round two.”
“And?”
